


Night Off

by skargasm



Series: Family, Pack - Same Difference [7]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Facials, Kid Fic, LJ Prompt, M/M, Pack Feels, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-04
Updated: 2014-08-04
Packaged: 2018-02-11 18:39:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2078868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skargasm/pseuds/skargasm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles has enjoyed his night off from the kids but now he’s home, does that mean the fun ends?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Night Off

With a flail worthy of an Oscar if only someone had seen it, Stiles landed on the floor with a thud. He lifted his head and looked down the length of his body, trying to figure out just how he had got himself into this position. Ah yes, that would be why—his trousers and boxers were tangled around his knees, thereby completely hobbling him and making it impossible to walk. Simple process of deduction—inebriation appeared to do nothing to impair his higher functions. 

Through the slightly ajar door, he could hear a warning grumble/growl which would be Angel sleeping and he held himself completely still, waiting for her normal breathing to resume, signifying her return to sleep. The floor was cold and hard beneath his ass and he figured he probably needed to get up. Somehow. The moonlight streamed into the room, providing more than ample light for him to work from and he realised that of course, it might have been better if he’d removed his sneakers before trying to shove his jeans and boxers over his feet. He pushed himself up into sitting position, staring down at the diamond shape his legs and feet made. He’d managed to get the pants down to his ankles but now they were hopelessly entangled with his socks and feet and he wasn’t sure whether he was up to the task of untangling them. 

“Fuck my life” he muttered under his breath, trying to push himself up with his arms whilst wriggling and shoving his feet to try to force the pants off of his legs. He couldn’t reach the sneakers now, all of his concentration on keeping himself upright and getting his shoes off. Simple.

“If you wake up the kids, I will kill you.”

“ARGH!” He did manage to muffle his (manly) scream, head whipping around to see that Derek had unrolled himself from his sleeping burrito shape and was sat up in bed watching him. And not helping. Well that wasn’t good. “What have we said about frightening years off of my life? We have no idea how many we have left and scaring me out of them seems counterproductive to the whole spending a long lifetime together.”

“Oh my God, you’re _that_ drunk.” Derek looked disapproving, all four of his eyebrows drawing together into a hugely dark scowl that had Stiles feeling like a naughty school-boy. Ooooh, that had possibilities, especially if Derek would put him over his desk and— “I don’t want to know where you mind just went so just don’t share. How much did you have to drink and do I have to be concerned about alcohol poisoning?”

“You know, a little help about now wouldn’t go unappreciated.” It was hard to be sexually alluring whilst holding the equivalent of a yoga pose with your pants around your ankles and your dick slowly rising to half-mast just at the sight of your husband sitting up in their bed. It wasn’t his fault—it was an automatic reflex when Derek was in sight, especially a sleep rumpled Derek with pillow creases on his stubbled cheek and his hair a messy tangle. 

“I’m not sure I should help you. I distinctly remember you telling me that this was just a quick get together with Scott, play a few video games, hang out.”

“Well that was how it started but Scott was hella tense and managed to break the Xbox remote. He obviously needed to talk and as his best bud in the whole wide world, I felt that it was my duty to find out what was wrong.” Realising that Derek really wasn’t going to help him, Stiles managed to lean over and shove one pants leg over his sneaker, catching the shoe and flicking it off. He absentmindedly gave his cock a quick pump and a stroke, licking his lips at the slight sizzle of arousal that had begun in his belly. “So alcohol was needed and Scott does not like to drink alone, so…and I wasn’t pouring so it’s not as though they were large measures.”

“So what’s wrong with Scott? And could you please refrain from playing with yourself when our bedroom door is wide open and you’re sat on the floor?” Blushing, Stiles realised the passing stroke had turned into a more regular motion, hand sliding up and down his dick as he looked over at Derek.

“I could close the door.”

“ _That’s >_ the bit you choose to focus on?”

“Never let it be said that I can’t prio- pritize— put things in order of importance.” He slid his other hand between his thighs, rolling his balls gently from side to side. This really did feel amazing – he couldn’t understand why he didn’t do this more often. 

“It wasn’t just drink was it?” Derek sounded resigned, which was good because resigned was a step away from angry.

“Isaac left Scott some weed that was meant to be astoundingly good so we partook of some of that.”

“Which is why you’re stoned out of your gourd. Aren’t you?” He seemed to be talking to himself so Stiles didn’t try to answer, just smiled in what he hoped was a winning fashion. Shaking his head with exasperation and fondness, Derek shoved the sheets back and got out of the bed, dropping gracefully onto the floor next to Stiles.

“No, no, I thought you were going to help me get up _there_ with you, not join me down here. This floor is hard.” He looked down into his lap, then back to Derek’s face. “Not as hard my dick though.”

“You are obsessed.”

“Well yes, I thought you knew that. I am married to you—I spend most of my life with a hard-on just at the thought of you. Being in a bedroom with you—our bedroom no less—when you’re wearing those thin pants that cover everything whilst revealing everything at the same time, well a man can’t be blamed for reacting. My dick is like Pavlov’s dog—it is trained to jump at your presence.”

“Uh huh. Hang on. “ Stiles watched as Derek got to his feet with ease, closing their bedroom quietly before returning to stand in front of Stiles. “Pavlov’s dog huh?”

“Absolutely. I didn’t marry you for your body but it is a damned fine addition to the whole package.” He licked his lips again, mouth nearly watering as he stared at Derek. Who grinned before walking closer, an added swagger to his step as he dropped one hand to the front of the thin sleep pants and squeezed. “Umm, I can help you with that if you like.” 

“I’m not sure you deserve it. It’s one thing to go and play your video games with Scott, but the drinking and drugs thing—not so much.” Another squeeze and the pants were obviously tented now, the hard shape of Derek’s cock outlined beautifully in the soft material. “Did you forget you’re meant to be taking Van swimming tomorrow morning? Not sure you’re going to be up to that—not safely anyway.” 

“Damn, I did forget, sorry. Shit, I hate breaking a promise to him.” His concern was almost enough to cause his erection to deflate, but only almost. Because as he finished speaking, Derek took another step forward and basically smashed Stiles face into his crotch. Rendered speechless for once, Stiles wasn’t so far gone that he wasn’t going to make the most of this, slobbering and sucking at the hardness of Derek’s dick through the thin cotton of the sleep pants. Pulling at his own cock with one hand, he scrabbled to get the material out of the way, hooking the pants over the smoothness of Derek’s hip and trying to pull them down.

“Uh huh—I didn’t say you could do that. Especially since you’re potentially letting Van down. I suppose I _could_ siphon away the pain of a hangover to make sure you could keep your promise.” 

“Mmmhmmmm.” He was barely paying any attention to what Derek was saying, too engrossed in enjoying the taste and feel of Derek in his mouth, stroking his own cock fast and hard. This was going to be a quick—he could already feel it building, the heavy cock sliding in and out of his mouth ramping everything up. 

“But what do I get out of it if I take away your pain?” Derek ran his hand through the tangled mess of Stiles’ hair, taking a grip at the back and tugging suddenly.

“What—?” Open mouthed, Stiles stared up at Derek. He couldn’t figure out why he had been stopped, everything coming to a sudden halt for no reason.” What—“ 

“Are you listening to me Stiles? What are you offering me?” Stiles struggled to get his brain online enough to think, squeezing hard at the base of his cock to forestall his orgasm as his body reacted to the tough words and the strong grasp on the back of his head. He loved it when Derek got dark and almost menacing—he became so demanding, almost selfish in his desires which in turn got Stiles off—but it didn’t happen often enough. Especially since they had had the kids. The stain they had caused in the hallway was the first time in a LONG time that they had taken their sexual adventures out of the bedroom and part of him missed that. Not enough to regret their little miracles—Van and Angel meant the world to be both of them. But they wouldn’t be human if they didn’t occasionally miss the carefree days.

“Anything. You can have anything.” His hand let go of the material of the sleep pants, sliding up to caress the smoothness of Derek’s hip. 

“And what if what I want is to fuck your face, slide my dick so far down your throat you can barely breathe; come whilst I’m so deep in your mouth that you don’t even taste it?”

“Derek—“ He knew he was whining, squeezing his cock over and over again to try to hold himself back. He wanted Derek to carry on and if he came, he might not. He could see it clearly in his mind, the drugged haze fading as he envisaged it, Derek standing over him, one clawed hand holding Stiles’ head exactly where he wanted it, hips driving forwards as he fucked Stiles’ wide open mouth. 

“Or better yet, I could just jerk off on your face—cover you in my cum so that every wolf within a five mile radius can smell that you’re mine, what you let me do to you.”

“Fuck, yes, anything, but please—I’m gonna come if you don’t—“

“Don’t you fucking dare—not until I tell you you can!” Nodding furiously, Stiles tilted his head back, staring up into Derek’s eyes as his lover began to jerk off hard and fast, fist bumping against Stiles’ mouth as he held the tip of his dick close. “Lick it.” Stiles’ immediately stuck out his tongue, licking at the head of Derek’s cock every time it emerged through his fist, lapping up the leaking fluids. “Yes, that’s it—lick it, take it all in. Gonna fuck you later—gonna spread-eagle you over the bed, eat you out then fuck you til you can’t walk.” The words were muttered, Derek’s eyes almost unseeing as he stared down into Stiles’ face. “Would you like that? Me making you wait until I’m hard again and can fuck you before I let you come? Hold you down on the bed so you can’t struggle free and milk the come out of you with my dick?” 

That was too much for either of them to take. Stiles stroked his cock furiously, hips jerking as the come flew out of him with barely any warning. He managed to close his eyes just before the first hot splatter of come hit his cheek, opening his mouth and holding out his tongue so that Derek could aim the rest of it as he pleased. The taste mingled with the remnants of the sweets he had consumed earlier as he swallowed, and he smiled to himself thinking he knew which flavour he preferred. With no warning, Derek’s legs gave out and he tumbled down, managing to stop himself from landing on Stiles and instead hitting the floor with a thud, his sleep pants around his lower thighs. 

Stiles allowed himself to fall backwards on the floor, head slowly clearing as he tried to catch his breath. 

“You know, this still doesn’t help me with getting my pants off and making it to the bed.”

“Shut up. Once I can feel my legs again, I’ll help you up.”

“So—that was kinda intense.” There was silence from Derek and Stiles wondered if he was going to say anything further.

“Well—you might, just _might_ have interrupted a rather intense dream I was having. About you. And what I want to do to you.”

“Oh really?” Sliding over onto his side, he rested his elbow on the floor and his head onto his hand. “Tell me more.” 

“I pretty much did. When I was….um… you know, earlier.” He smiled, reaching out to stroke the red tinted edge of Derek’s ear. It was adorable how he got embarrassed sometimes. 

“So was that a promise? Cos if so, I am gonna crawl to the bathroom and have a quick shower. You know—just in case you decide to make all of that happen.” Derek finally opened his eyes, staring up at Stiles with an assessing gaze before being sufficiently reassured by what he saw to smile.

“You do that. I’ll check on the kids and I’ll meet you in the bed.” They smirked at each other before Derek let out a little chuckle. “You might wanna hurry up and clean your face before that dries. It’ll be hell to get rid of.” He looked so proud of himself, Stiles couldn’t even bring himself to complain, merely shoving himself to a sitting position and manoeuvring to his feet carefully. As he made his way across the room to the bathroom, pants and briefs a rumpled mess hanging onto one ankle whilst the other foot was decorated in a sock that was half on, half off, he turned back to Derek.

“Hey Der?”

“What?” Derek had tucked himself away, looking far more respectable than someone who had just jerked off on his husband’s face had the right to look. 

“Love you dude.”

“Don’t call me dude. And right back at you!” Smiling, Derek left the room check on the kids and Stiles made his way into the bathroom. Catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror, he couldn’t help but laugh. Half of his face was covered in drying come and some had made it into his hair; his eyes were slightly unfocused no doubt from the weed and the booze; and he had a lovely bruise forming just beneath his chin no doubt where Derek had grabbed him at some point. He admired the bruise for a moment or two, a huge grin on his face. He was so damned lucky and he knew it. Turning, he stepped into the shower and turned on the spray, beginning to whistle under his breath as he realised his night off from the kids was far from over. Not if Derek intended to follow through on his promise. Damn, he might just need that pain-taking for other reasons than a hangover if he was lucky!

**Author's Note:**

> This is in the hope that you'll forgive me for 'Alpha's Boy' when it comes out - basically, this is just some smut! 
> 
> Taming the Muse Prompt : Flail
> 
> Writing Week : 65
> 
> * * *


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